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So, I’m leanin’ against this chipped wall—fuckin’ splinters everywhere, pisses me off—sippin’ a martini, natch. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, sizin’ her up. Did ya know, back in the day, Rome’s hookers had their own guild? True story—called themselves “meretrices,” fancy as fuck. Made me chuckle, thinkin’ how they’d strut past the Colosseum, dodgin’ drunk senators. History’s wild, innit?

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But then, I see this little kid, right? He’s got this huge smile, holding a balloon. And I’m like, “Dude, that’s what life’s about!” So, I chill for a sec, and I’m just watching him. He lets go of the balloon, and it floats away. I’m thinking, “Oh no, kid!” But he just laughs! Like, what? I’m over here fuming about my charcoal, and this kid’s just living his best life.